Are We the Waiting
by Riku-Aura777
Summary: It's hard to pick the pieces up after a tragedy occurs. But you always have to try, even if trying involves waiting. Sometimes, waiting is the only thing you can do. 777/Tech.
1. The Beginning

Yes, a new story. I probably shouldn't start one, considering I have two that desperately need to be updated, but the idea won't leave me alone. This one will probably be relatively short, but hey, it's still Techen! God, I've missed this so much. But I think it'll be kinda depressing, just so you all know.

**This is an AU**. Everyone mentioned in this who was a Reaper in the game is alive. Just thought I should make this clear, because it would probably be weird if I didn't.

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You. Oh, and the title comes from a Green Day song with the same name, so I guess I don't own that either. Not a song-fic or anything though.

* * *

It was a sunny day. The temperature was above normal, forcing the Tech to wear a pair of shorts. He hated shorts, wishing to be in his normal pair of jeaned pants. But no, the humidity was against him, and he didn't have 777 around to tease him about it. Even if the singer was around, he probably wouldn't have bothered to mock him about it anyway.

No, it was for the best that 777 wasn't around. The Tech smiled, but it was forced, weary. These two months… there wasn't even a word to describe them. But tomorrow, everything would return to normal. His lover would be able to come back home, and they could start over; they could correct everything that went wrong. It would be their second chance.

That brought a genuine smile to the man's face. After tomorrow, he wouldn't have to sleep in an empty bed again. He wouldn't have to substitute 777's voice for the somber silence that had been engulfing the apartment. He would finally, _finally _feel whole again, not like the shattered being he had been in the aftermath of the most horrifying experience he ever had.

Anxiety was bubbling within him. Today was going to crawl by, he just knew it. He needed to be around someone, or he was going to go insane, and he couldn't let that happen. He had to remain stable, because he knew things were going to be difficult tomorrow. He had to be calm, supportive, or they would both crumble apart.

The apartment became too cramped to handle his sporadic emotions, so the Tech decided to take refuge within the chaotic energy of the city. It was easy to lose yourself in the bustling crowd of people who were too busy caught up in their own thoughts to pay attention to the world around them. He could only hope he could find solace in that. But standing around the Scramble Crossing did nothing to help him; it only proved that, despite being around masses of people, he felt more alone than ever.

Against his will, his feet began dragging him past the 104 Building, through Dogenzaka, and to his lover's sanctuary, the concert stage in A-East. He hadn't been there since that traumatic day two months ago, and neither had Tenho or BJ, as far as he knew. But surprisingly, he could see lights on inside, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Anyone could have been in there, but the Tech's curiosity was peaking, so he meandered inside. Amazingly, one of 777's best friends—hell, one of _his _best friends, after all this mess—was inside, Tenho.

"Hey," he called out, voice echoing, breaking the silence of the large building.

The other man jumped slightly. He didn't appear to be doing anything, but the Tech assumed that he had just been wrapped up in his thoughts.

"Hey Futoshi," he said back, giving him a small wave.

It appeared that the heat had been too much for Tenho as well. He was out of his red hoodie, which was even rarer than the Tech being in shorts.

"So how are you?" He asked the drummer once he hoisted himself onto the stage.

"Eh… you know. Nervous, I guess. You?"

"Same. Heard from BJ lately?"

"Nope, he's pretty much been AWOL for a few weeks. I haven't heard from him since he told me that he talked to 777."

Right, that disaster. The Tech had been trying to forget about that. He would never be able to figure out how 777 and BJ had been friends for so many years when they were constantly hurting each other. He had talked to the singer the day after that phone call had happened, and his lover didn't even bother to hide how troubled he was by it. Sadly, that was the last time he talked to him directly, but seeing him tomorrow would help him access his mental status.

"So what're you doing here?" The Tech questioned, wanting something to talk about.

"Oh, nothing. I just… missed the place. I dunno if Def March is really gonna be around anymore, so I thought I should just stop by again. You know, just in case."

He had a good point. It was something the Tech had not been thinking about. Seeing as he wasn't officially part of the band, that knowledge hadn't really been a priority, but he could see why Tenho would be wondering. It was his hobby and his job. It was probably even his life.

"Heh, we'll have to get 777 and BJ back together first," he couldn't help but joke, causing Tenho to chuckle. He grinned, happy to banish the morose air that surrounded them.

"This has all been so hard," Tenho sighed, ruining the Tech's work at lightening up the mood. "These have been the worst two months of my life."

"Same here," he said, unable to form a better response.

"God, everything's just been so screwed up. I mean… how did this even happen?" Tenho pondered, voice raising and cracking.

"I don't know." He had been asking himself that, several that. He had been asking everyonethat, the man sitting next to him, BJ, his own mother, whatever form of a higher deity that could possibly exist, _everyone_, but he had received no answer. This wasn't a situation that could be rationalized or logically explained. This was something that could only be answered by one person, and that person wasn't here right now. No, they were an hour away, hopefully recovering, or rather, fully recovered. The second one sounded far more promising, and the Tech needed that reassurance.

"How could this happen?" Tenho's voice lowered to a mumble, but the Tech could detect that tremble in it. "Futoshi, why couldn't we do anything?"

He felt tears prick his eyes, but he held them back, knowing that he had to be strong. He couldn't afford to fall apart, he had done that so much already. He fell apart the day he watched his lover break before him, and he wasn't going to let that happen again.

"Tenho… I don't think we can blame ourselves. I mean… it happened, and wishing we could fix it isn't going to help. The only thing we can do is help him _now_, not feel bad for not helping him then."

"Yeah… yeah, I guess you're right."

"I hope I am," he confessed, knowing that there was a good possibility that he wasn't. But he had suffered through many sleepless nights trying to figure it out, and while there was no real solution, that idea gave him a small feeling of peace, and whether that peace was true or not, he didn't care. He just needed the hope that things were going to get better, and if lying to himself was the only way to achieve that feeling, he had no problem doing that.

"No, I think you're right, Futoshi. I mean, you're going out with him, so you're probably right."

_Yeah, I'm going out with him, and I missed all of this. Some boyfriend I am… _But he didn't say any of that. He just nodded and stood up.

"I think we should find BJ," he said resolutely.

Tenho looked taken aback, but whether it was at the spontaneity of the statement or the determination in his voice, the Tech wasn't sure of. "Uh… why?"

"I don't know. Just need something to do. Plus, those two _will _need to talk to each other eventually, don't you think?"

"Yeah, that's true."

"Have any idea where he'd be?"

"Probably at his place, still sleeping. It's only like eleven, right?"

The Tech didn't have a watch, so he just shrugged. "So should we head over there?"

"Uh, sure."

A mini-adventure to make the day go by faster. The goal of the day: calm an enraged BJ down and get him to listen to reason. Possibility of that happening: Quite low.

But the Tech really just needed to think about something else. He needed to speed up time, or else he was going to start thinking about his lover, and he wasn't sure if he could handle anymore of that. So he would brave BJ, where the worst thing that could happen to him would either be a lot of yelling and/or being punched in the face.

… He would rather take the yelling and punching.

* * *

Confused? I hope so. I'm trying to make it somewhat suspenseful. And I apologize for the shortness, hopefully the rest of the chapters will be longer. Happy early Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it. To those who don't… uh, have a nice day? Oh, and please review!


	2. Reconciliation

I updated fairly quickly. It's a miracle! Even though I didn't receive any reviews (and I was _really _looking forward to people asking about what happened to 777…), I got a decent amount of hits and alerts. Plus, to an extent, I'm liking this story, so I want to continue it. Thanks to everyone who read!

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You, or the song the story is named after.

* * *

Normalcy was in the eye of the beholder. True, the Tech knew that the saying didn't actually go like that, but that was his version of it. That's how it _should _go, in his opinion. Six months ago, everything was going fine. He had just turned twenty, worked with his boyfriend part-time, and his relationship was still going strong.

At the same time, he was oblivious to the pain 777 was going through.

But the more he thought about it, he was not sure if he was guilty of being innocent. Looking back on it, the signs were there, clear as day, had he actually taken the time to look at them. Instead he chose to ignore them, to cast them aside. He was directly responsible. In fact _all of them _were, 777 included.

_No… no, I can't blame him._

That had been his internal struggle for the last couple of months. He had talked to his lover three times after it, each conversation containing levels of angsty, anxiety, and melodrama. Tears, yelling, and pleading. Promises and empty words. Questions after questions after questions, and yet neither of them were able to produce apt answers to them, leaving a hollow yearning with the Tech.

And the singer was actually coming _back _tomorrow?

He hadn't heard from 777 for a few weeks, not after the troubled singer had called him to explain his conversation with BJ. He had been so distraught over it that he had created such a panicked noise which resulted in him losing his phone. It was a miracle he had managed to keep it for so long.

He heard from 777's doctor two days ago.

The conversation was short and dispassionate, with the undertones of _Listen fast, I have more important things to do _and _I would love to explain it to you in more detail, but I really don't have the time._

He was aware that those two undertones were basically the same thing, but he perceived them differently. There was a kindness in the doctor's crisp tone as she droned out facts too fast for the Tech to wrap his head around, but none of that really mattered to him at the time. The words, _"I believe he's fit to be discharged in two days," _were the only words he was able to absorb. Those words held a gift of hope, wrapped up with a ribbon of trepidation.

The Tech really just wanted to see 777. He wanted to hug him, kiss him, touch him, look at him, admire him, _treasure _him. He wanted to hold him and never let him go, because he felt so lost without him. He wanted to lay in bed with him, just lay there in silence, and watch him; watch him and observe him and take in what he failed to notice before. He wanted to know that what happened two months ago wasn't the end for them. He wanted to know that break_down_ didn't mean break_up._

Those thoughts sent a chill down the twenty year old's back, contradicting the warm temperature around him. What if 777 didn't want to be with him anymore? What if his breakdown was the last straw in their relationship?

No… he couldn't let himself think like that. He had to cling to that last thread of optimism, or else he would fall apart right there in the middle of the street, with Tenho and the merciless sun as his witnesses. And he wouldn't be able to accept that. Not after all he had been through, not after 777 grabbed his hand and dragged him through their own personal hell, and _especially_ not after they both had to make the journey out without each other.

The Tech had made to the other side. Now he was just waiting for his lover. And he would find out tomorrow if he made it.

"We're here," announced Tenho sullenly, bringing the Tech back to the present.

The pair stood in front of the apartment building, seemingly frozen in place, eyeing the building uneasily. Neither took another step forward, as though they would be condemning themselves to a cruel fate if they stepped inside.

"Well, he can't still be angry," the Tech reasoned. Tenho scoffed. "Well… he can't be angry at _us _anyway. I mean… it's not like we did anything to him."

"He's probably too stoned to care," Tenho spat out, almost as if the words were poison.

The Tech winced. He wasn't used to Tenho hurling around accusations—out of him, 777, and BJ, he seemed like a pacifist—but he realized how opposed the red jacketed man was to his friend's questionable choices.

"You never know," the Tech interjected. "It's only… what, noon? Why would he be getting high this early?"

"More like why would he want to get high at all?"

The Tech shook his head. He really could not understand how the three of them had been friends since they were kids. All they seemed to do was argue and antagonize each other, and yet they stuck together and were inseparable. It was just a concept he could not wrap his head around, possibly because he never had any significant friendships.

"How 'bout we figure that out another time. Wanna go in?"

Tenho merely shrugged and strode in, leading the way. The Tech trailed behind him as they climbed the stairs and stopped in front of the door. Tenho then sighed and knocked on his friend's apartment door, shuffling from foot to foot as he waited for a response. He didn't receive one.

"Hey man, it's me and Futoshi. Can you open the door?" Nothing. "I know you're in there, your car's here." Continuous silence. "Hey, I have a key! Don't make me use it."

A few seconds later, the door opened, and they were welcomed by the sight of a disgruntled BJ. "Tenho, stop yelling. It's too early for it."

"Hey, it's noon. Not that early."

BJ turned to the Tech, regarding him warily. "What're you doin' here?"

"We need to talk to you."

BJ seemed to mentally debate his decision, but eventually moved back inside, giving the two silent permission to enter. The apartment was cramped and it reeked of alcohol. The Tech realized that this was why it was the first time he had ever been inside; why would he want to spend his free time here?

"So why are you here?" BJ repeated as he sat down, this time directing the question to both of them.

The Tech decided to get straight to the point. "777's coming home tomorrow."

BJ remained quiet for a minute, before saying, "Really?"

"Yeah, I got the call a couple days ago."

"This soon?" He tried questioning with a casual disinterest.

"Think I could… maybe use your car? To pick him up, I mean?"

BJ didn't reply, causing Tenho to try and persuade him further. "Come on, man, we know you're mad at him, but maybe you two could just talk when he gets back…"

"Is he still pissed at me?" BJ asked, forcing his voice to sound nonchalant.

"I don't know," the Tech answered. "I haven't talked to him for awhile. But I think he was more upset than mad. Seriously, BJ, he almost started crying a few times. Why'd you say all that to him?"

BJ glared at the younger man. "He was saying shit to me too, y'know. I just reacted, just like any other person would've."

"But BJ," Tenho countered, "you could've just ignored it. I mean, he was probably just lashing out. Look at what's happened to him, he didn't need you to just add to all the stress."

"Someone should've warned me that the saints were coming," BJ growled sarcastically. "Well, sorry I can't be perfect. Sorry I'm pissed at my best friend for what happened to him. Maybe he shouldn't have called then. He knows I can't control my anger… but I know I probably over-reacted, okay? I _know _I did, and I don't like that I know it."

That speech left the Tech and Tenho wordless. For the Tech, that was the most genuine and remorseful he had ever seen the other man act, and he had no idea what to say back. But that was okay, for BJ continued, "I just wanna apologize to him, okay? Because I do know that I'm wrong, and I hope he can forgive me. So, um… do you think I could, maybe, go pick him up?"

Now _that _was something that could instigate him into talking. "BJ, you really think that would be a good idea?"

"Yeah, what if you're too high to drive tomorrow?" Tenho wondered cynically, rolling his eyes.

"Do I look high now? I actually haven't been for a few days."

Tenho mock-gasped. "A few days? What an accomplishment."

"Look, I get it, you're pissed too."

"Well, yeah, of course I am. Are you really that surprised, man?"

"No, Tenho, I'm not. And I get why you are, okay?"

The Tech raised an eyebrow in confusion as he watched Tenho flinch. This was another example of how he was an outsider in this long-lasting friendship, for he knew nothing of the other band member's past, and why he was so against drugs.

"So… what, are you saying you're gonna quit?" Tenho asked tentatively, as if voicing the idea wouldn't mean it was false.

"Yeah… I'm gonna try. Talking to 777 helped, even though I hate saying that. I don't know, I can't really help him if I'm out of it. And I think he's gonna need all of us."

That admonition struck the Tech forcefully. BJ was right; while these two months without the singer had been so challenging, the next few months to come would most likely prove to be even tougher, and it was going to be a difficult battle.

"I don't know if 777 would want you to pick him up," the Tech voiced, trying to get the conversation back on topic.

"Well, if he doesn't, I'll just drive back and get you. That or I'll drag him into the car. Not like he'd be able to put up much of a fight now."

As much as he'd hate to admit it, BJ did have an excellent point there.

"I could go with him," Tenho replied, hopefulness seeping into his voice. "You know, if you don't trust those two alone."

"Tenho, if you go, then the three of us might as well just go together. Who knows, maybe that would be best."

"I like Futoshi's idea. That would probably work," BJ replied.

The conversation drifted in circles, and the Tech quickly began to lose focus. He began to wonder if 777 thought he was ready to come home or not. He would probably secret revel in the fact that his closest friends were planning the easiest and stress-free way to welcome him back home, but was he ready for that sentiment to be put into action?

"Hey, Futoshi?"

"Huh?"

"Um…" BJ looked unsure how to proceed. "I'm sorry for how I treated 777. I mean, I know that you and me don't really talk that much, but I thought you should know that he is my best friend, and since you're going out with him… well, I just thought you should know."

The Tech nodded, understanding BJ's gesture, and deeply appreciating it. He had always had the feeling that BJ didn't care much for him, or his presence. He didn't welcome him with open arms like Tenho had, instead choosing to ignore him most of the time. But BJ had just admitted that he accepted the Tech's presence, and that he hoped they could get along someday. "Thanks, BJ."

Not long after that, the three men decided that they couldn't just lounge around, so they left the apartment and wandered aimlessly around the city, quickly realizing that the temperature had increased _even more_ than what it was. Eventually, they took refuge inside Ken Doi's ramen shop and ordered lunch, and stayed there for over an hour.

The day served as a reprieve for the Tech. It helped him to see that he was not the only one condemned to the fate of confusion and guilt after 777's breakdown. It showed that he was not the only one who had to wait for this day to arrive, that he was not the only one that had been suffering.

It helped him feel less lonely, and less cut off from the world. And he needed that, he needed to feel like that before walking into the uncertainty of tomorrow.

* * *

…Please review? Feedback would definitely be appreciated.


	3. Work in Progress

Look at me go, I'm really staying with this story. Thanks to my two reviewers and everyone who's been reading. This chapter might not make much sense, since these are just little snippets of conversations, but I hope you enjoy. Things will become clear eventually… hopefully!

Oh, and in case I don't update again for awhile, Merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You or the song this story was named after.

* * *

The first phone conversation between them was awkward. The Tech felt guilty for everything that had happened, and 777 was confused about the situation. It was about a week after his breakdown.

_It was midnight. The Tech had managed to fall asleep relatively fast—the first time that week—but the shrill cry from his cell phone woke him up. Grumbling, he blindly searched for it, successfully finding it before the fourth ring._

_Shortly, he answered, "Yeah?"_

_"…Futoshi?"_

_The voice made said man immediately sit up. He rubbed his eyes, willing himself to focus. "777? How did- no, why…"_

_"Sorry for, uh, for calling so late."_

_"It's okay. But… _how _are you calling me?"_

_"Snuck my phone in." Despite the situation, 777 clearly sounded smug._

_"What if you get caught?" The Tech wasn't sure of the policy there, but he was pretty sure there was a punishment system._

_"Screw the rules," the singer quickly dismissed. There was a short lull until he quietly admitted, "I miss you, so I don't care about what happens."_

_"I miss you too." He missed him more than words could describe. He missed him so much that it hurt. But he wouldn't confess that. "So… h-how's it going?"_

_"I don't know. My roommate's a downer. But he's a heavy sleeper, so that's why I'm calling now."_

_After that, neither spoke for a few minutes. The only comfort they had was the sound of each other's muffled breathing. The sound did nothing for the Tech, so he instead uttered the words that had been floating around in his head. "I'm so sorry, 777."_

_The singer chose to neglect the apology. "Hey, am I on any magazines yet?"_

_He was hoping for an acceptance of his apology—or even better, for 777 to reciprocate it—but the segue was expected. He decided to go along with his lover's charade. "We're had a couple calls for an interview, actually. As far as we know, there aren't any pictures of the concert, so Tenho and I are trying to keep things quiet."_

_"I'll sleep better knowing my reputation's still waiting for me," 777 joked humorlessly._

_The Tech felt a wave of agony sweep over him. Before he was pulled under, he managed to choke out, "I'm still here too."_

_He managed to fight off his sobs enough so he could hear 777 mutter, "I know." That knowledge brought him no form of relief, no form of comfort. Instead a lead weight of doubt dropped in the pit of his stomach. He felt as though he couldn't breathe._

_"I shouldn't be here, Futoshi," 777 stated. To the Tech, however, his tone was in between pleading and demanding. "I'm fine, really. Why am I here?"_

_"I'm sorry, 777. I'm so sorry." He couldn't form a more articulate sentence, so he settled for apologizing. Over and over. He could faintly make out his lover's confused pleas, but he could not form a reply to them. His own voice was unshaken, but remorseful. But he wasn't crying._

_It seemed time had gone on vacation with their sanity. After some amount of it had passed, 777 murmured sadly, "I think I should go."_

_"Okay," the Tech relented. "You probably shouldn't call again. You don't want to get in any trouble."_

_"Yeah…" he trailed off before quickly adding, "I love you."_

_"I love you too." He then shut his phone._

_After that, he just sat there. There was no positive reaction, nor a negative reaction. It was as though his body had numbed over and his mind had shut down. Somehow, he laid back down and fell into a restless sleep._

_He left his phone on every night._

The second conversation was filled with accusations from both sides. However, it would be mingled in with concern. It was merely two sides of the same coin.

_The Tech had been on the couch, channel surfing aimlessly. It was a little after eleven, and he was contemplating the day's events. Numerous Def March fans were stopping him on the streets, but he did not really acknowledge them. All he knew was that questions were being asked and rumors were being spread. And he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it._

_Suddenly, the phone started ringing, pulling him from his thoughts. He reached for it absentmindedly. "Hello?"_

_"Hey."_

_The Tech was wondering if—no, _when_—he would hear from his lover again. It had been about three weeks, marking the month of the singer's absence. "Hi. How's it going?" He hated that. He hated that he asked that question so leisurely. Things weren't normal. They probably wouldn't be._

_"Well, you know. They've got me talkin' to a shrink now."_

_"Oh yeah? How's that been?"_

_"I hate it, Futoshi!" His tone was blunt, vicious. It made the Tech flinch. "He's making me talk about things I don't want to think about."_

That could be anything, _he thought in dismay. He knew next to nothing about 777's past. The Tech could always detect his reluctance to talk about the past, so he never pushed the topic. That was his mistake._

_"777… he wouldn't be making you talk about… things if he didn't think it would help," he pointed out, knowing immediately that he said the wrong thing._

_"You don't know about it, Futoshi! I hate thinking about it."_

_"You're right, 777, I don't know about it!" The Tech was lashing out. It probably would not help 777, but it would be beneficial to his own well-being. So he chose to be selfish. "Maybe if you trusted me, this wouldn't be happening!" He gasped in surprise as soon as the words left his mouth. He had crossed a line; 777's unnerving silence was proving that. Hopefully they both could survive the aftermath._

_"You don't… you think that I don't trust you?" 777 repeated. His voice was shaking in disbelief. It made the Tech want to bash his head into the wall. But he couldn't fold. Not this time._

_"What else am I supposed to believe, 777?" He whispered. "I know nothing about you."_

_"I don't wanna talk about it," he hissed petulantly. "I just want to get out of here!"_

_"Don't raise your voice, you'll wake your roommate," the Tech scolded dryly._

_777 laughed, but the pitch was tainted with hysteria. "If you think _I'm _fucked up, you should talk to him! He's got cuts everywhere! He tried killing himself, not me. I shouldn't be here."_

_The Tech just didn't have the heart to point out that the singer almost killed himself. He lacked the heart and the emotional endurance._

_"777… you need help." There. That was the truth. The undeniable truth._

_"Everyone's crazy here," 777 ranted, ignoring the Tech's exhausted statement. "I'm sane. Why don't you believe me?"_

_"I do," he reassured. "I know you're not crazy, okay? You just need help."_

_"This was a mistake…" the singer sighed._

_"No, not a mistake. It's just…"_

_"Just a mistake. I'm sorry, Futoshi."_

_And then he hung up the phone. The Tech couldn't even cry._

The third and final conversation was filled with tears and sorrow and panic. It was one of the scariest moments in the Tech's entire life.

_Another three weeks had passed. The Tech had been spending nearly everyday with Tenho. He was grateful to the slightly older man. Without him, he probably would have snapped._

_BJ had been distant, angry. His drug use seemed to increase as well, which saddened Tenho. While he only smoked pot, none of them approved of it. But BJ disregarded their concern._

_The Tech couldn't sleep that night. Time crawled by. Eventually, he began to doze off. Unfortunately, his cell phone started to ring._

_"777?" He greeted, all ready knowing that it was him. However, he received no answer, making him doubt his opinion. "Hello?"_

_"Futoshi?" His voice was small, meek._

_"777, what's wrong?" The Tech could tell right away that something was wrong. He could easily let go of his previous anger._

_"Um…" the singer's hesitance brought tears of concern to the Tech's eyes. "D-do you still love me?"_

_The Tech was baffled at his lover's question, and he felt tears well up in his eyes even more when he heard the singer's tone—he sounded like a lost child._

_"Of course I still love you," he said with a quiet sincerity. "I'm still in love with you. Now what's wrong?"_

_"I'm so sorry, Futoshi," 777 said, beginning to weep. "S-so sorry."_

_"It's okay, baby." The Tech never called 777 by any sort of pet name, but "baby" just flowed out of his mouth naturally._

_777 sniffed quietly. "I'm sorry for everything."_

_"I know. Now… what's wrong? Is it the shrink? Your roommate?"_

_"A-actually, I'm doing okay with the t-therapy thing. I figured that… that if I talk, I'll b-be able to get out. I just wanna get out." 777's voice was shaking, and almost completely turning into sobs._

_"I know you do," the Tech reassured, hoping that his voice sounded placid. "So what happened? Please tell me."_

_"I… I trust you, Futoshi," he responded before inhaling a shuddering breath. "I called BJ an hour ago."_

_The Tech listened for the next half hour about 777 and BJ's conversation. As the story reached the end, the singer was breathing way too fast, and the Tech had to refrain from smashing his phone out of anger._

_"I-I'm so s-sorry, Futoshi," 777 choked out, sobbing loudly._

_The Tech felt his heart breaking with his lover's voice. Both were threatening to completely crumble. "It's not your fault. BJ shouldn't have said that to you."_

_"But… it's true! I-it's all true."_

_"777, breathe." The Tech could feel his heart pounding. The singer sounded like he was about to hyperventilate, if he hadn't started all ready. "Shh… I know it's true, but it was cruel. He… he probably didn't mean it." He doubted that that was the case, but he could lie if it would calm the singer down. He was starting to get scared._

_"I… I…"_

_"777?" He received no reply, only the sound of panicked, erratic breathing. "Listen to me, okay? Even though all this has happened, I still love you. And I _don't _blame you. I hope you believe me; it wasn't your fault."_

_"What's going on in here?"_

_That was a voice the Tech could not identify, meaning that it was probably either 777's roommate or a staff member._

_"I have to g-go." This made the Tech believe that it was the latter. "I-I love you too." Then the singer hung up._

_The next few moments went by in a blur. There was a little bit of crying, the Tech remembered that much. He wasn't sure how much or how long it lasted though._

_He only had one coherent thought at the time. Would things be such an emotional rollercoaster when 777 returned? He wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted his singer to be normal again. And with the phone conversation, the Tech could see the chances of that happening becoming lower and lower._

_Was there even any hope anymore?_

* * *

Wow… this chapter even made me sad! I hope it was good, since there were a lot of different emotions I was trying to convey throughout the entire thing. So… please review and let me know how I did?


	4. Lost for Words

The response I'm getting for this story is making me very happy, so thanks to everyone who's read and/or reviewed. I hope this chapter is up to the same quality, even though I doubt it is. Hope everyone is enjoying the holidays!

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You.

* * *

The next morning, the air was cold. The weather seemed to be continuously contradicting itself. Everything seemed to be mocking the Tech. The weather was just his favorite bully.

He woke up early. It was about an hour before his alarm clock was set to go off. He checked his cell phone; no new messages. This caused him to sigh in relief. That meant that no one was going to take away the gift of 777's return. No one was going to toss him back into the nightmare. Sadly, that realization brought forth no show of happiness. He felt… subtly elated. If he was looking in a mirror, he probably would've seen a small, content smile. If he was lucky, maybe it wouldn't appear broken.

With an air of apathy, he began making coffee. He knew that he wouldn't be able to hold anything down, so he didn't prepare anything for breakfast. However, there was small, nagging voice in the back of his head. Sighing, he grabbed a piece of bread and popped it in the toaster. And that, for a reason that was beyond him, made him feel a flutter of happiness.

After drinking his coffee and forcing the toast down, he felt the tiredness return. But it was too late to go back to sleep. He had to face the day. It was simply too late to hide under the covers. Besides, he could probably sleep in the car anyway. That would be preferable to being stuck in a confined space for an awkward two hours.

Time crawled by and the Tech was becoming more restless with each minute passing. He began pacing around the apartment. He almost decided to watch TV, but he knew that nothing besides the news would be on this early in the morning. The news was not going to be able to predict how this day would turn out, so he wasn't interested.

The Tech quickly came to the conclusion that he needed to get out of the apartment. Walking around in circles around the small space was only showing him one thing: he desperately needed to clean. And while that would take his mind off things, he _really _didn't want to do that.

With that as a motivator, he grabbed the pair of jeans and t-shirt he could find, then migrated into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Within five minutes, he was out the door. The thought occurred to him that Tenho and BJ would be expecting him to be home, but he just had to get away. He needed to clear his head. He needed some reassurance that things wouldn't blow up in his face today. Without that, this would all mean nothing.

He left without a guilty conscious. If he wasn't back in time, they could merely call him on his cell. He nodded, reaching into to his pocket to make sure it was there, that would make it all okay. He didn't have a destination though. All the Tech knew was that he had to walk around, and his feet seemed to be in control. They were walking toward Dogenzaka, so he could only assume that his mind was guiding him to the ramen shop.

However, that realization made him roll his eyes. The place couldn't be open so soon. Why would it be? While Ramen Don was practically a father to him, he could honestly say that his business was not doing that great. But the day was just full of surprises, the Tech discovered five minutes later, seeing lights on inside the quaint building.

He was greeted with the normal exuberant "Irasshai!" as soon as he entered. The Tech waved back half-heartedly, taking a seat at the counter. The ramen maker regarded him curiously though. The older man didn't ask if he wanted food, nor did he follow any of his normal characteristic patterns. Instead, he crossed onto the Tech's side of the counter and sat down next to him, clasping his shoulder in a concerned manner.

The Tech smiled warily, feeling the tiredness from before seeping into his body. His mind couldn't even create a lie; couldn't muster up the nerve to say, 'I'm fine.' No, he had been doing that for too long, and everything just came crashing over him. 777 was _coming home _today. He was supposedly cured, even though he knew, deep down, that wasn't true. It just _couldn't _be true. A breakdown that took who knows how many months to happen couldn't be fixed in just sixty days. That guarantee had to be false. No one could promise anything that extravagant and actually make it come true.

Maybe that was why he felt like he was about to fall over, and the only thing supporting him at that moment was Ramen Don's hand, still holding onto his body even though the man had yet to say anything. His silence was unnerving; he was always grinning and raving about something. The silence made him look older than he normally acted. It belied his actual age.

Thinking about it now, was it possible that he needed mental help? They had all forced 777 into getting some—an incredible feat, one he would remember for the remainder of his life—but the Tech never thought that he should talk to a therapist. Hell, probably those three would need to undergo band therapy before they ever played together again, if such a thing really existed.

And what about his and 777's relationship? Had it crashed and burned that day, and they just hadn't found out yet? Or would they find out days or months or even years from now that their relationship had been smashed to pieces and left in ruins?

The Tech found himself shaking his head forcefully. Sure, he was a pessimist, but he couldn't allow himself to think like that. He pounded the countertop hard, causing his hand to tingle in pain and an echo to resonate through the building. But neither man flinched.

There would be one good about 777's return… besides the obvious. Maybe once the singer came back, he would bring time back with him. The Tech had grown tired of time losing its value and meaning. There was probably something unhealthy in that notion, but it was too far hidden underneath the layers of dependency and yearning.

It dawned on him that his unruly behavior might be worrying the ramen maker. However, he still lacked the courage to lie about his state of being. He then settled for what he deemed second best. "I'm sorry."

The aging man merely shook his head though. He patted his shoulder and stood up, making his way back to his side of the counter. The Tech numbly noted the lack of touch, missing it but knowing that it couldn't have lasted longer than a few fleeting seconds. This was all reaffirming his previous thought: there was something wrong with him. Hopefully it wasn't irrevocably damaged.

"I haven't seen you in awhile." The Tech looked up and stared at the man. His voice wasn't booming, like normal, but he sounded concerned. "I've been wondering about where you've been."

He only nodded his head, unable to say something to ease the man's concern. The only thing he was experiencing now was a gripping silence, almost as though someone had gagged him, or that he had somehow forgotten how to speak.

Ramen Don seemed to pick up on that, so he continued his one-sided conversation. "I haven't seen your friend lately either." The Tech didn't like how this conversation was going. "Did something happen to him?"

That was the question. That had been the question he had been repeatedly asked this whole time. And every single time, he had no answer, no response.

But maybe this time would be difference. He opened his mouth to answer, but slowly shut it. Were there truly any words to describe it? When he thought about it, it seemed easy. All he had to do was just say what happened, which didn't require much of an explanation at all. And if he was vague, the answer would be even shorter, but satisfying.

It seemed like a legitimately easy task. _777 collapsed during his concert. _It was only five words. Eleven syllables. And yet he couldn't utter them. He wouldn't be able to make it through any follow-up questions, like was the singer okay? Well, that was one he could easily answer: no, no he wasn't. There was also the predictable question of the status of the band. Since the Tech wasn't technically in the band, he had no idea.

But then there was the question he most feared: was _he _okay? That wasn't an easy question; it was one that he had been asking himself daily. And that was the thing. If 777 was supposedly fine, shouldn't he be? After all, everyone's mental stability had, as of now, been revolving around the singer's.

The Tech found it ironic that he was falling apart once things were supposed to getting better. That had to be a bad sign, or some kind of bad omen of the future.

It occurred to the Tech that he had yet to answer Ramen Don's question. The man was still staring him intently, waiting patiently for an answer. He released a shaky sigh. He could do this. After a beat, he opened his mouth. "He, um… he's not doing too good." He didn't elaborate on if he was doing badly physically, mentally, or emotionally, but he since 777 wasn't doing good with either of those, he didn't feel like that he had.

"A few kids have stopped by asking about him. I guess they know you eat here. They said he passed out during a show or somethin' like that. Is something wrong with him?"

The Tech's eyes widened, and he was sure that he gasped slightly. While he knew that other people were aware of what happened, _hearing _that they knew was a different matter. He was hoping that more rumors had been spread; he didn't want to hear the truth mentioned. He thought about it enough, he didn't want other people thinking about it too.

"He's not doing good," the Tech repeated only because those were the only words he could produce. His voice was shaking, almost completely drowned out by the insecurities and fears he had refrained from mentioning. Mentioning them would make them real, and the Tech wasn't sure if he could handle that.

His cell phone rang, causing him to jump. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, flipped it open, and passed it to the ramen maker, offering no explanation. His mouth was open, but there was no sound. He couldn't find his voice. He was lost for words.

It was still cold outside. From that point, the Tech was expecting it to rain, for it to pour, for it to wash away everything. Maybe then everything would just get swept away. Maybe then the uncertainties and insanity would be washed away. But there was no guarantee that the Tech would like what was underneath it all.

* * *

Well, there's chapter four. I'm not sure how long this story is going to be. It'll probably be ten chapters at the most, but I'm not positive. Anyway, please review. Comments and suggestions are appreciated and most often loved!


	5. Scattered

And I'm still continuing to update relatively fast! Sadly, this chapter is quite a bit shorter than the rest of them, but I'm afraid to add anymore to it. A lot is happening in this one, so maybe that could balance it out. But that just means that I'm going to update even faster, since I'm already writing the next one! Hopefully, despite the length, it's better than the last one.

Oh, and Happy Belated New Years. It's 2010 now!

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You.

* * *

777 had a powerful voice. That was the first aspect of the singer that the Tech noticed all those years ago when he was hired to set up Def March's first concert. They were a very underground band, and that night had been their first time poking their head up above the ground. They had strictly clung to small clubs or bars: their comfort zone. But that night, they threw their security blanket to the ground and performed on, by Shibuya's standard, a large stage. And they rocked.

The memory brought a fond smile to the Tech's face. He had known the three band mates for literally forty-eight hours during that show, but, from his seat off to the side of the stage, he could tell that the miniscule crowd—they filled about one-third of the building—responded positively to them. The Tech didn't expect them to be great, or even that good, but they blew him away.

Tenho bashed the drums gracefully with a fervor he did not express anywhere else. BJ played his bass and sang his handful of lyrics with the confidence he normally exuded, but the Tech could not deny that he had talent; playing the bass was the only time he would admit that BJ had a right to have an over-sized ego. And 777… from the minute he walked out onto the stage, his charm washed over the crowd, and they were under his control. From the second he began strumming the intro of the song, and passionately reciting the words of his song, everyone rose to their feet, albeit skeptically, and enjoyed their performance, becoming progressively engrossed by them with each song.

It would have been a lie to say that he immediately fell in love with 777 during that show—and also a horrible cliché—but the Tech became interested in the slightly senior man. That much was undeniable. He wanted to see them perform again, just to see if they applied the same magic that they had that first night, or if it had just been beginner's luck. He was rehired to be their tech show after show, and quickly learned that the appeal of Def March and, more personally, the people a part of the band, was genuine, and it never faded.

"Futoshi, you still in there?"

Or had that spark been extinguished?

"Huh?" He responded intelligently, bringing himself back to the present.

Tenho craned his neck so he could see the Tech around the headrest. "Nothing, just making sure you're still alive."

The Tech watched as Tenho turned back around and directed his attention back to the front of the car. Then the Tech sighed and leaned back against the window, shuddering as the cool surface made contact with his temple. They were probably half way there, according to the Tech's mental map. They spent the majority of the trip in silence. Barely any words were exchanged when they picked the Tech up at the ramen shop; neither questioned why he was there, which he was thankful for.

His mind traveled back to the scattered memories of Def March's last concert. It seemed just like any other concert, the trio threw themselves into the music, like always, and the Tech didn't realize anything was wrong at the time. He didn't notice 777's strained movements, his gasping breaths, or his slurring speech. Only in retrospect had he noticed those details, and he couldn't help but wonder if he could have changed something if he had.

But he didn't notice. No, he only watched helplessly as the singer, nearing the end of his set, dropped gracelessly to the stage. He didn't react as he watched BJ toss his bass to the floor and rush over to the singer's crumpled, unconscious body. He didn't move when the audience gasped in shock and horror, or when Tenho tried to appease them while BJ picked 777 up, even though the drummer's voice was trembling with fear.

The Tech was rooted to his spot and did nothing to help, not even when BJ barked at him to call an ambulance. He could only stare at 777's slacken, sunken face with fragmented feelings. He could barely react when Tenho grabbed his shoulder and shook him, asking for an explanation like a child pestering a parent for attention. The two had lived together; they had for over a year. But he noticed nothing, and he would live with that image of his lover for the rest of his life.

Time chose this point to speed up. BJ was leisurely speeding along, taking heed of Tenho's handwritten directions whenever needed. With each minute that flew by, anxiety was welling within the Tech.

"So what are we going to do after this?" Tenho asked hesitantly. It was the question that nobody wanted to voice, but now that it was out in the open, it gave the Tech something else to focus on.

"Well… we go back home," he answered, knowing that he was being too literal, knowing that he was being a smart ass. He didn't want to give a definitive answer too soon. He didn't want the silence to resume.

"Maybe we just try to go back to normal," BJ interjected, eyes never leaving the road. Even when the Tech and him had reached a tentative understanding, they still continued to oppose each other.

"But what if 777 can't go back to being normal?"

The Tech bit his lip. When had Tenho gotten the gift to see inside his mind and find his fears?

"They wouldn't be releasing him if he wasn't fixed," BJ reasoned. But the Tech could see his hands clenching the steering wheel tightly.

"What if he's broken?" Tenho questioned, his tone quiet, almost as if he was ashamed of asking.

Before he could stop himself, the Tech countered, "Who isn't broken?"

No one talked after that. No one had the chance to. BJ was turning off into a driveway that was long enough to be a street. The Tech couldn't breathe. He could only watch as a looming, dreary building approached them. The building looked like it could suck them in, and the Tech, for a brief second, felt an ounce of pity for the people who could never leave.

After an agonizing minute, the car reached the building, and the Tech audibly gasped. Sitting on the steps of the gray structure was his singer, his lover.

"777!" He exclaimed, feeling dazed but awake, almost like he woke up from a restful sleep. He fumbled with his seatbelt and pushed the door open before BJ had the car stopped. His worn sneakers touched the asphalt once the vehicle was in park and he walked to the steps. The exuberance he momentarily felt had weakened.

The Tech watched as the singer stood up and looked down at the official looking woman he had been sitting next to—the doctor he spoke on the phone with, perhaps?—then as he descended the steps. The Tech knew he should have been taking in his appearance, but that was not his priority. The first thing he needed to do was to touch him, just to assure himself that the singer was okay.

The two came to a stop when they were a few inches apart. But they didn't move after that. To the Tech, it was like they were standing on opposite ends of a bridge that they were both afraid to cross. And that was when the last vestige of hope faded.

The silence was disturbed by Tenho rushing forward and hugging 777. The singer was almost knocked off his feet, the Tech observed, and he wondered why he couldn't do the same thing. Tearing his eyes from the scene, he looked at BJ who was slowly sauntering toward them, his step lacking its normal swagger. He looked back at 777, seeing a small flicker in his eyes, a scattered remnant of fear and anger generating within them.

Suddenly, the Tech was slammed by the words he remembered that 777 and BJ had exchanged. The air around them fluctuated between uncomfortable and unbearable. All of them were thinking about it, he just knew.

_"I bet you're a real addict now, huh?! Got any needle holes in your arms yet?"_

_"'Least I never shoved my fingers down my fuckin' throat_!"

But the two men exchanged no words. Instead, 777 grabbed his hand—it felt more obligatory than out of love or need—and nodded toward the car. And the Tech couldn't help but wonder if any of them were going to survive the trip back.

* * *

So what did you think? Hopefully you liked it, because, hey, 777's in it now! Truthfully, we're nearing the end of the story, I believe, so I hope it's not disappointing you. Please review and let me know, okay?


	6. Hand in Hand

See, like I said, a fast update. Go me! This story is really winding down, and this is probably the most important chapter. I'm actually a little afraid to post it, and I don't think I've felt this nervous about a piece of my writing in a long time. Despite what I've been told, I really don't think I'm an emotional writer, and this chapter is supposed to be very emotional, so I really hope I accomplished what I tried to do… Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own The World Ends with You.

* * *

The Tech was sitting a foot away from 777, but he had never felt so distanced from him before. He wanted to reach out and hold the singer's hand, but he felt that the action would have been more for attaining normalcy than comfort, so he resisted. Instead, he looked at him, he looked him with an intensity that he previously lacked. An intensity that could have possibly saved them both from the anguish they had experienced.

777 looked cold. His hands were balled up and clutching the ends of his sleeves. His sweatshirt seemed to swallow him, but it didn't appear to be giving him any warmth. With his hoodie on, the Tech could not tell if he had gained any weight; his face was thin, but that was not much of an indicator.

He assumed that his lover had gained at least a few pounds back. After all, they wouldn't have released him if he was still not eating. However, he was not sure if 777 had fully recovered mentally; his doctor had requested that he resume his therapy on an out-patient basis. They both agreed to her terms, not really thinking about them. They both had just wanted to leave.

They were half-way home, and the Tech was not anticipating what would happen when they reached their destination. What would happen when it was just 777 and himself at their apartment? Would the awkward tension melt away without the presence of BJ? Or would they reach a silent impasse without Tenho's gentle forwardness?

He sighed, causing the singer to look him slightly. Their eyes locked for a split second, and the Tech couldn't recognize the look in them. It resembled concern, and that was good enough for him. He quickly averted his gaze, hoping that it would cease the nervous flutter in his heart.

"So, 777, did they let you write any new songs?" Tenho asked, keeping his voice light and casual. The Tech wished he could acquire the courage to do so.

"They would've let me, but I didn't." The Tech watched him as he responded. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew he needed to find _something. _But whatever it was, it was eluding him.

"No new ideas?" The man questioned, continuing his attempt at repairing the bridge between them.

"It's not that," 777 said, shrugging, "I just don't know if I want to keep doing this." The Tech's eyes widened, unable to prepare himself for 777's muttered, "I think I might need a change."

The silence that filled the car was deafening, but the Tech couldn't drown it out. Tenho didn't continue the conversation; the singer had succeeded in stunning him into speechlessness. Maybe that had been his plan.

_He's lying, _the Tech thought, blindly reaching for a rationalization. _He _has _to be lying._ But his lover wasn't looking at him, so he couldn't gauge the truth in his eyes.

"So you're giving up?" BJ asked in a clipped tone, breaking the silence.

"What?" 777 questioned, voice becoming increasingly tense.

"Life kicked your ass, and now you're gonna give up?" He reiterated, shaking his head.

"It didn't help that my best friend kicked me back down when I was trying to stand back up!" 777 snapped, looking a little more like himself.

"That's never stopped you before," BJ pointed out. The Tech could tell he was trying to remain cool, but he was failing. "What the hell did that place do to you?"

"It showed that you're not even worth fighting against." The singer's voice oozed contempt. "I'm not gonna bother anymore."

The Tech didn't have enough time to react. Suddenly, the car was pulled over to the side of the road, and he was lurching forward because of how forcefully BJ applied the brake. He exchanged a quick look of confusion with Tenho before turning his attention back to the man sitting in front of him. He couldn't even look at 777.

"Get out," the bassist muttered, sounding furious. "Get out of my damn car."

He watched as his lover quickly exited the vehicle. The man didn't go far, settling for stomping around in the grassy area a few feet from the car. He didn't move far from the road though. The Tech mentally debated going after, but shortly realized that he shouldn't even have to think about it. He climbed out and cautiously approached 777.

Their eyes met again, but neither looked away. The Tech was still looking for some sort of sign in the singer's eyes, and 777… he wasn't even sure of what 777 was looking for. He only hoped that he was having an easier time finding it.

"Say something." The Tech stared curiously at him, but said nothing. "You haven't said anything to me this whole time. Say something."

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. Just stop acting like a zombie."

"You weren't saying anything to me either," the Tech pointed out, knowing that his argument was juvenile.

"You could've tried. Tenho did."

"Yeah, and then you tell him that you 'need a change.' Can you blame me for not knowing what to say?"

"With the band," the musician reaffirmed. "Not with you."

"All right. Then show me," the Tech demanded, feeling seeping into his voice. He just wasn't sure what that feeling was.

"How?"

"Tell me what you talked about in therapy."

"Here?" 777 asked incredulously.

"Yes, here." He needed to know if the singer trusted him enough. If he didn't… then what would be the point in them continuing their relationship?

"Can't we talk about it at home?" 777 suggested.

"I want to know now."

"We're in the middle of nowhere, Futoshi!" He shouted in frustration. "I want to go home."

"And I want to know why you stopped eating!" He shouted back, watching as 777 flinched. "And why you couldn't talk to me about it! You can tell me _anything_, 777, you should know that."

"Maybe I didn't want you to know," he growled, eyes sparking with anger.

The Tech briefly wondered what the people who were driving past were thinking. No one had stopped to watch the spectacle, so maybe they had their own personal drama to deal with. Maybe it was some twisted rite of passage among the drivers, some type of initiation they had no business in watching. Whatever the reason, he wished he could be in their shoes. He wished he could be doing anything else rather than asking his lover, "Is the secret worth killing yourself over?"

He watched while 777 struggled to find a response, and sighed when he settled on feebly saying, "I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"You stopped eating. That isn't normal, 777."

"I know that! I was… just stressed out, okay?"

"By what?" The Tech asked, silently urging him to continue. He was hoping that they were making progress, despite how sporadic their conversation seemed.

"Just stuff. I don't know."

"Not good enough." It was hard for him to regain his patience. The Tech knew that he was going to have to find it somehow. "Stress from me? The band? The fans? What, 777? Was it one of those?"

"N-not really you," the singer spluttered. "Kinda the band, yeah. And the fans. Bu, um…" The Tech observed that 777 appeared to be shrinking before him. He hated seeing his singer experiencing hesitancy. "My dad called me a few months back."

The Tech positive that he looked visibly confused. How could his dad be influencing his behavior? He thought back to his relationship with his own father—the man had died a few years ago—and great it had been. But he knew nothing about 777's past, so he blamed his naïveté on that.

"I haven't… I haven't talked to him since I moved out," he continued. "That was six years ago."

His mind jumped to many possible conclusions, many of which he did not want to contemplate. He settled on requesting, "Tell me about him, 777."

The singer gave a humorless laugh. It sounded like it had been ripped out of him. "He was a bastard. I moved out as soon as I was eighteen." He paused, shifting his heated gaze to the ground. "BJ had his own place. I moved in with him."

_Maybe _that's _why they're best friends_, the Tech couldn't help but think. "What about your mom?" The question was slightly off topic, but he wanted to know.

"Left when I was ten. Haven't seen her since."

They lapsed back into silence. The Tech had come from a good family, and he had no idea how to react to this. Should he continue to pry? He shook his head, knowing that he _had _to keep prying. There was no other option now. "What did he do to you, 777?" His voice reflected his concern, but it also implied that he would not tolerate any lies. This situation called for complete honesty, and he prayed that 777 knew that.

"Not much, at first. He kinda… he kinda just ignored me. He liked to drink though. He drank a lot. And… I don't know remember what I did, but I did something bad, I guess, and he… he just punched me in the face. I was fifteen."

In the past two months, the Tech had suffered through many moments where it felt like time had stopped. But, in that moment, he had never been so sure that time had, in fact, halted. In that moment, every on-looker or friend vanished, and his eyes could only see the man before him. The man—his lover—who was more broken than the Tech had originally believed. 777 had always seemed strong and infallible to him, but the Tech could feel his heart breaking. He mourned the fact that he couldn't will his legs to step closer to him. He hated himself for not knowing how to respond.

Instead, 777 kept talking, "So, he called me like six months ago, maybe more. I don't even know how the hell he got my number. Said he was losing his house and that he needed money."

The Tech watched futilely as 777 began trembling. He resisted flinching when he met his lover's eyes. Rage was swirling within the stormy gray of them, and suddenly his extreme anger made sense. "He can't… he can't suddenly call me up and order me around! I don't answer to him anymore! He can't find me and pretend that none of it happened!" He paused and harshly breathed for a moment before sneering, "'You're still just as worthless.' That's what he said when I told him that I wouldn't give him any money. Like, _I'm _the screw up! Like, _I'm _the one who has nothing! He shouldn't be judging me! It shouldn't _matter _that he's judging me!"

The Tech gave the singer a moment to try to compose himself. He sighed, knowing that what he was going to say might push him off the edge. But now, he felt like he had enough strength to pull him back. "But it still does, doesn't it?"

He watched helplessly as the tension seeped out of the ailing singer, and the only thing he was left with was an open wound of pain and sadness. "It still does," he quietly admitted, lowering his eyes once more.

The Tech stood in silence as he watched 777's pallid face and quivering body. And then he shorted and the distance between them. He thought about hugging him, or kissing him, but he didn't. He instead grabbed his lover's clammy, shaking hand. The touch jolted him, and it almost felt like their souls were mingling together. Now that he was closer, he could see the tears welling in the singer's eyes. But the Tech knew how stubborn the man was, and that he wouldn't let them fall. The younger man could only hope that him shouldering some of his burden would give the singer some solace.

Still holding his hand, the Tech pulled 777 back into the car, and BJ wordless started driving. The Tech looked down at their hands, then back up at his lover's cloudy eyes. Even though he still felt a little hollow inside, he mustered a smile. The smile stayed on his face the remainder of the trip, and he could only hope that, sometime soon, 777 could return it.

* * *

This chapter, like chapter three, made me sad. Even the ending sort of is, but it's supposed to be a tad hopeful… And this is not the end, there will probably be one or two chapters after, not sure which though. Something about this chapter seems off to me though, but I can't figure out what it is. So… please review, because your thoughts/criticism/compliments would really be appreciated. I'll try and update soon!


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